May 28

Arrival at the airport in Amsterdam where - oh luxery - and oh togetherness - my new friend pick me up. Iris and Marie (her labrador) brought me to my mums home where I stayed for a short vacation to celebrate my mothers birth day.

 

Juli 2025

1st july. Great beach day. Birth day of my mum.

We went to the beach place owned by my brother with who I had some words but for my mothers - and my sake - reconciliated and that was the biggest present for mum. It was a perfect day. The sun warm, us close to the sea with nice beach beds and a parasol place with an immense drill by my brother. A lunch where I ate things I normally don´t eat so I let go of myself. I remember me  protesting when the waitress removed the Aioli because I was still eating. 

The other july days were in Holland till 8th and then I flew to Catalunya where I was navigating through the immense heat. I am so lucky with the river. It is behind my tiny house and fresh, quiet and most beautifull place I know. I´m a luck one - finally. 

The idea to write a book I had before but after reading the book a year in the Provence that my mum gave me I told her over the phone: this is a great concept write every month about the life in the land where Im now. I have many stories and often very funny or typical and I can do this. Mum directly suppported me and told me it is a great idea. 

So I walked around with the idea for a few weeks. Till it started to annoy me. The stories were piling up in my head I needed to start. Today I bouth for 1 euro a notebook. It was on offer and and next to the door, It was so to speak pùt t¡out there for me. So I started. Sitting on the best terras in the city on the top of the Rambla, a fresh summer wind. The tassas all for me. calm and quiet, my note book on the table. the tarras chair excellent, the coffee with oat milk, made by a proffesional ´barista´, was very creamy as it should. No better moment then this to start the book. 

A year in Catalunya

For: mams who always believed and supported me.

 

 

Chapter 1: July  

Since 10 years I live in Catalunya.

A wild place between France and the rest ofSpain. Spain wants to have it. Catalunya is a goldmine. They say. Not for me. The nature is wild and unforgiving. They didn´t had the idea to plant lots of fruittrees because they love to eat meat. They eat here meat 3 times a day. A stark contrast with me. The last meat I ate was 25 years if not longer ago. It was a steak. It was laying the whole night as a brick in me. I said never again. And that was it. The land of the vegetarian and vegan is abundand. however not here. Okay one can buy fruits and veggies. But like in Thailand or Bali that the people have it on their menu that you feel with like minded. 

Anyway. there is more wildness. The nature is absolute wild in the area where I live. When I flew to Holland (where im from) in France there was so much more cultivated but still foreests and so on. Holland... everything is square, dammed, controlled, over populated, used. 

In Catalunya the people are a bit wild too. One friend named ´Dino´told me one time: Nicole youre in the wild west, the people just do some thing, they do whatever they want´

As a proof recently I noted a real proof...next to my house is a dirt road it goes to the lake, there is a barier. A white with red bariier and a there is / was a sign pole not enter, the one with the red and white stripe. They drove over it. Flattened it with the ground. 

 

Anyway this is where I live. Around the corner is the river. This river has rocks, somewhat clean waters especially after the rains, flowers next to it, cascades, birdlife and so much more. Its humming its way and im very blessed. Or did I bless myself - to live here. 

 

Its magic to live here. mind you I live in a box of 30 square meter with two children in Amsterdam in a not so nice street. I was always on the go for a bit of nature. We used to go on the bicycle with three of us to the ´park´ a fake landscape that made me cry inside. 

 

Things went completely out of hand in that life and I spare you the details. 

 

My new chapter is Catalunya. 2015. We moved my daughter and me. Away from city away from school away from it all. And it was the best thing i ever did for her, she stated. 

 

She learned to speak Spanish, Catalan fluently. Me so so. Sort of halfhearted kind of knowledge. I always feel I am passing by here but im still here. 

I live this nature life and take care of her old stafford. A great companyon and barks well when needed. I feel very safe with her. She is bit old and so but with her bite is nothing wrong. She destroys big pieces of wood in  a way...

 

Chapter 2: August  

I had a person living here for a while. He offered money good money to live in this beautifull place. He brought two cats. Black cats. One very humble the other the diva so to speak. He left. I made him leave. Couldn´t cope with the smell of rancid alcohol of his many drinks from the day before. Im very sensitive for scents. I could be a ´nose´ for parfume development. So it was impossible. For all the money in the world I could not have lived with this. 

 

The cats he supposed to pick up a week later. That week never arrived. So yesterday my action plan arose. I could not take the diva any longer. Her mowing, her running in front and against my legs for more food, her appetite, her never enough, her sound, her complaints...

He had left two cat travel cases. In the morning I was going to the city and had some 10 extra minutes on top of the extra travel time I take into acount nowadays any way. 

 

The cat was hungry. Ran in front of my legs. As usual. And I grapped her neck and put her in the travel case. But she was quick, and was out before I could close the zit.

It became a sort of fight for the fittest. I won.

After cloing the zip halfway and push her in her head was coming out, third approach was not easy, she knew now what was in store and I got difficulty hold after sweet voicing her and have the food bowl as my saviour.  I used my foot to close the gap and closed the zip her feet were even till the last moment fighting to come out but she was inside.

Oh victory. Next to do was that I had to walk to town and consider my 3 options. Or leave her - bag and all - at the parking where someone would find her, trusting her mowing making, her PR, she is here. 

But who is going to take the chance to open a bag with an n¡unknown cat inside...meaby a monster cat comes out.

 

And in summer heat, I felt sorry for her.

So I had two options left: or take her to the big city and place here - bag and all - in front of the vet and they had to deal with it, or bring her to the place where the ´catlady´ puts food for the village cats, then put catfood (I had cunnningly or lovingly brought along in a platic bag) in the lady cat feeding bowl and whilst the diva cat eats, quickly leave of. So she cannot follow me.

 

I did it and it went according to plan. The relief after was huge. Also thay feeling that I made action and acted and made it happen. 

 

Now I must take care that the cat does not follwo me becaue her new life is close to my ´office´(place where is a small park, WIFI and and my outdoor ´gym´(play ground for children). 

 

To be continued